I can never resist not grabbing for my camera when I see the skys so beautiful as this, I have so many photos of the sunset, but tonight at 5.10pm whilst on my balcony this sunset I am sure you will agree is especially beautiful.

The fire breathing dragon is dancing in the sky,
With flames so bright and breath so hot ı saw him flying by,

With puffs of smoke and blazing rods that shone across the Mountains,
And trails of blue and orange were spraying out like fountains,

I shouted from my balcony, please come and let me fly,
I want to dance among the clouds and touch the blazing sky,

But as I watched he flew away and the flames were turning black,
Tomorrow night I hope to find that my dragon has come back.

Thought with all this video making I would put together a few of my best times of 2009, I tried this new programme David and Bob were using…..hours later!!!!! stress level risen to well above average I came up with this…….

Twas the ride before Christmas, And not until Spring, Would an engine be running, not even a Wing. The bikes are all sleeping, They’re covered and warm , nylon covers their magnificent form. My Bros were all nestled snug in their beds, While visions of new chrome danced in their heads. And I in my bike jacket,and the boots I adore ,was out shoveling snow and dreaming a Tour, Then from the horizon there came such a clatter, My shovel I dropped, what could be the matter? Away up the hill, I slogged through the snow, Looked up at the sky; where’d all that noise go? A throb from the heavens like straight pipes so hearty, Gave Summers’ good thoughts, a loud bikers’ party. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a neat ’02 Retro, Red trailer in rear. With a little old rider, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than Crotchies his Retro came on, And he whistled, and shouted, and sang out this song; Now, Harley! Now, Big Dog! On Honda and Beamer! Now Vulcan! Now Injun! On Vict’ry and Trumpet! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now RIDE away! RIDE away! RIDE away all!” As bikes that from the semis do fly, When they meet with the air blast, mount to the sky. So up to the house-top that Ol’ X it flew, With a trailer of goodies, and ole’ St. Nick too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The rumble and thunder of pipes that gave proof. I ran to the house, boots thumping around, And in came St. Nick all bearded and round. Dressed all in black leather, from jacket to boot, His chaps were all tarnished with road grime and soot. A T-bag of goodies he’d flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His shades — how they twinkled! his do-rag how scary! With chains intertwined, through skulls that were cherry! His droll little mouth had done many a row, So the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, The smoke had a strange smell; it gave him relief! He had a broad face and a large fat beer belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was tattooed and plump, a right jolly old rider, So I offered a cold Bud, thought what could be righter? A wink of his eye as he downed that cold beer, Gave me to know I had nothing to fear. He spoke not a word, but went straight to my ride, And fixed it with Chrome, Horsepower and Pride! And giving the peace sign with bikers’ good cheer, Took off for his Retro which was rumbling quite near. He sprang on the saddle, his gloves on the bars, A wheeley he threw then off towards the stars! I heard him exclaim, as my chest swelled with pride… “Merry Christmas To All, And To All A Good Ride!”